Never Forgotten
by Yondaime Namikaze
Summary: The headstone read "Astrid Haddock: Beloved Wife and Mother". A young man knelt by the headstone. His head was bowed in silent prayer. He did not remember Astrid; she had died courageously fifteen years ago, a passenger aboard the doomed US Airlines Flight 93. (One-shot sequel to "Never Forget"; a tribute story to honor those whose lives were lost 15 years ago on Sept. 11, 2001)


**Not going to lie, but I was not planning to write a sequel. However, I saw many reviewers asking for one so I have decided to write one. This one-shot probably won't be as good as the first one, but most sequels aren't, so I guess it's okay. Remember Hiccup's and Astrid's young son, Kennett, from the original story. Well, he's back and all grown up in this sequel. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Never Forgotten

The headstone read "Astrid Haddock: Beloved Wife and Mother". A young man knelt by the headstone. His head was bowed in silent prayer. He did not remember Astrid; she had died courageously fifteen years ago, a passenger aboard the doomed US Airlines Flight 93. He, himself, had been only two (almost three!) at the time.

Kennett Haddock brushed some stray grass from the headstone. Not for the first time, he wished that he could remember his mother. His father seemed to really love her, even now, fifteen years later. "Hey, Mom," Kennett whispered, his voice deepened with age. "It's me, Kennett. It's been fifteen years. Mom, I'm graduating from high school this year. I…I wish you could be here." Wind brushed through Kennett's blond hair and he couldn't help but to feel that it was his mother's touch, reminding him that she was still there watching over him even now.

In his pocket, Kennett's cell phone vibrated. Pulling it out, Kennett read the text from his father. "I have to go home now, but I'll always come back. I promise. I love you, Mom."

It was only a short drive home and Kennett arrived quickly. Both his father and Heather were home. Kennett's father married Heather when Kennett was ten. As much as Kennett wished his father could still be married to his mother, Kennett was just happy that his father had been able to love again after the tragedy. The years after the plane crash were dark times for Kennett and his father. Hayden "Hiccup" Haddock, Kennett's father had lived his days in a trance-like stupor. He provided for the young Kennett but he was definitely a shell of the person Kennett had known and admired. Young Kennett had often found his father crying at night and his hugs were always longer and tighter than they'd used to be.

Kennett could barely remember it now, but, according to his dad, he used to ask constantly when his mother would come home from San Francisco. His father had never seemed to have an answer and, eventually, Kennett had stopped asking.

Arriving home, Kennett greeted his father and Heather. Dinner was ready and Kennett joined his dad and step-mother at the table. As he ate, Kennett took notice of the calendar on the wall. It was September 10, 2016. Tomorrow would mark 15 years since he'd lost his mother (although, he didn't find out about it until much later).

"Kennett, the news stations are running coverage of…you know," his father told him quietly. "I know you don't know much about what happened that day. The news stations are showing actual footage from that day, if you're interested in seeing it."

Kennett nodded. He knew that his father had a tape somewhere that he'd recorded from the news that day, but the young man had no idea where it was stored. At least this way, he'd be able to see what had happened on that day. After dinner, Kennett sat in front of the television. As he completed his homework, he watched the news broadcast. What he saw was absolutely horrific. Planes crashing into the World Trade Centers, buildings he only knew by name. The collapsed side of the Pentagon smoldering. Then, Kennett saw the visuals of the downed Flight 93 in the Pennsylvanian field. It was still hard to believe that his mother had been aboard that plane. "Mom," he whispered. He had not been aware of the tears that fell from his eyes until his father and Heather hugged him close.

"It's okay, Buddy," his father told him softly as he ruffled Kennett's blond hair. "It's hard. Just like on that day. We'll get through it, though." Kennett just nodded in reply. He didn't trust himself to speak.

Later that night, Kennett's father turned off the television when he was certain that they'd all seen enough of the repeated news coverage from September 11, 2001. "Don't stay up late tonight, okay?" he cautioned his only son. "We're going to have a busy day tomorrow."

Kennett knew that he should probably have questioned this last statement, but he just nodded and went to bed.

The next morning, Kennett's father woke the boy early. Kennett grumbled since it was Sunday and it was one of the only days he had each week to sleep in late. Kennett's father told him to dress comfortably for the day, so Kennett threw on a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt, his usual attire.

When everyone was ready, they all climbed into Hiccup's car and Hiccup drove away from the house. Kennett asked where they were going but neither his father nor Heather would answer him, so Kennett eventually just turned on his iPod and sat back to wait and find out.

They drove for several hours. Kennett passed the time by staring out the windows and watching as the car flew down the highway. Not much to see, really. There were lots of trees and cow farms, occasionally a house or a business. It was really boring.

Hiccup exited from the highway and Kennett checked their location on his smartphone. They were somewhere in Central Pennsylvania. Intrigued now, Kennett continued to watch the GPS on his phone as it updated their location. He was not sure when exactly he figured it out, but as they got closer to their destination, Kennett realized that his father was driving to the Flight 93 Memorial Site in Shanksville.

The road they took wound through backwater farm towns and, seemingly out of nowhere, the memorial site appeared. The place was packed today as many had come together to remember what had happened on that morning fifteen years ago.

Once they had parked, Kennett, his father, and his step-mother began their day outside. Approaching the site, there were signs that described various aspects of the day. In order, they described the events leading up to the crash. One sign showed pictures of the crew and passengers that had been aboard Flight 93. Kennett scanned over the pictures quickly until he found the one he'd been looking for. It wasn't hard to miss. He had her blond hair and blue eyes; he looked exactly like her. Astrid Haddock, his mother. Quickly, Kennett took out his smartphone and took a snapshot of his mother's picture. Now he would always have the picture to remind him of his mother's face especially now that his own memories of her had faded into the past.

A short presentation outside described to the crowd what had happened on the morning of September 11, 2001. As Kennett listened, he tried to imagine his mother. What did she do when she'd learned that her flight was doomed? How had she felt? After the presentation, Kennett and his family walked through the memorial. It was amazing (and sad) to think how this area used to be just a field…until that day. The memorial was simple and, yet, it spoke volumes, telling all that needed to be said. Kennett leaned against the low wall of the memorial and stared out into the now-peaceful forest. Out there, marked now by a boulder, the plane and its passengers and crew had found their final resting place.

Kennett moved to the furthest west point in the memorial. There, a wall of names had been built along what had once been the plane's doomed flightpath. Walking down the line of the wall, Kennett scanned the names until he found his mother's. Breaking away from the crowd, Kennett walked over to kneel in front of the marble panel that bore his mother's name. He could hear whispering from visitors who had noticed his action, but Kennett tuned them out. All he focused on was closing his eyes and visualizing his mother based on the picture he'd found earlier. Tears slowly dripped from his eyes and ran down his cheeks, but Kennett made no move to wipe them away. He just reminisced silently, trying to hold on to any small memory of his mother that he could.

Kennett's father's hand on his shoulder startled the young man. His father told Kennett that he and Heather were going inside to the visitor's center. Hiccup told Kennett to take his time and join them whenever he was ready. Kennett nodded, grateful that his father trusted him enough to let him stay here alone for just a little longer.

"Mom," Kennett whispered softly, forgetting that there were other visitors around. "It's been fifteen years…as of today. I know you are watching over me every day. Are you proud of me…your son?" The tears were coming more freely now. "I wish I could remember you better, Mom. I wish I'd had more time to get to know you before…" Kennett couldn't finish. He'd always been strong-willed, a combination of his mother and father…at least, that's what his dad had always told him. Still, this was all too much and Kennett did not even try to hide the sadness and tears.

Kennett sat there quietly for another minute or two before he stood up again and wiped his tears away. "I miss you every day, Mom." Slowly, Kennett walked up to meet his dad and Heather at the visitor's center.

It was a short walk to the visitor's center, about five minutes or so. Kennett hoped that the wind would help to hide the fact that he had been crying. Not that his father or Heather would care. They both understood that this was hard for Kennett; it was hard for them too. Once inside the visitor's center, Kennett took his time to walk through and explore the exhibits that were displayed for the public to view. The visitor's center was packed today and Kennett knew he'd have a hard time finding his dad, so he decided to put that off until later.

From the exhibits, Kennett learned a lot about Flight 93 and what had happened on the morning of September 11, 2001. There was so much that he'd never known and now he was learning it. As Kennett was walking through the exhibits, his father found him and called him over to look at something specific.

Kennett looked down at the artifact his father was pointing to. It was a silver heart pendant. Though it had been burned and chipped from the wreckage, it was still there.

"That pendent belonged to your mother," Kennett's father explained to him. "She used to wear it on a chain. She kept our pictures in it, you know, yours and mine both. I don't know how it managed to survive enough to be recovered from the wreckage."

Kennett stared at the pendent for a little longer. He could almost imagine his mother looking upon her pictures of him and his father one last time before the plane crashed down.

There was still a lot left to see, so Kennett moved on. He saw his father listening to one of the telephones on which were some recorded messages recovered from the moments right before the plane met the ground of this western Pennsylvania field. Kennett waited for one of the phones to open up and then he picked up the receiver and placed it to his ear.

Kennett was never one to cry easily, but some of the messages were just so heartbreaking that he fought tears just listening to them. Some callers knew that they would not make it and tried to stay strong for their loved ones. Others remained hopeful that this would not be the end for them.

"The passengers, they're planning to take back the cockpit. Maybe everything will be okay," a woman's voice said over the receiver. Kennett glanced over at his father and saw that he had gone stiff. Softly, Kennett's father said, "Astrid." Mom? This was Kennett's mother speaking? Kennett could not remember his mother's voice. He continued listening.

"Listen, I need you to be good for Daddy while I'm gone. Can you do that for me, Ken?" _**Wait, these snippets were from a conversation with me. My mother must have called my dad right before the plane crashed.**_ Kennett kept listening. "I want to believe that we'll make it through this and that I'll see you and Ken again…I love you. Forever. No matter what happens today, I'll love you forever." Kennett could hear the love and sadness in his mother's voice. It just wasn't fair, what had happened to his mother and all the other innocent passengers on Flight 93.

"Never forget…" It ended there with, what surely had been, his mother's final words and a moment later the recorded messages looped and started over again. Kennett placed the receiver back onto its holder and walked to stand beside his father who looked almost shell-shocked after hearing Astrid's voice again after so long.

Kennett pulled out his cell phone again and looked at the picture he'd taken of his mother's picture from the sign outside. "We didn't forget, Mom. We've never forgotten."

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 _This past September marked the 15_ _th_ _anniversary of the worst terror attack upon US soil. For me, memories of this day, that horrific morning, are just as fresh as they were fifteen years ago. Those who lost loved ones on this day have been left with scars that may fade but will never completely heal. While I am lucky to not have known anyone personally who died in the terror attacks, everyone was affected. The unexplainable loss of human lives in these attacks affects each and every one of us._

 _The years will go by and life will continue to move on, like it always does. It will get easier, but the memories will remain. If you were old enough to remember this day, it is something that you will never forget. We've NEVER FORGOTTEN and we never will._

 _Jendora (Yondaime Namikaze)_


End file.
